


love put me wise to his love in disguise

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bars and Pubs, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gender Role Reversal, Genderplay, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Robb Stark is a Gift, Stockings, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 15:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8921668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: in which Robb and Theon do go out and they get some fairly wise advice.
(sequel to never judge a book by its cover, I'll probably turn this into a series when I come up with a decent title. Watch this space.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SabrinaC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabrinaC/gifts).



> HEY SO IT'S THROBB CHRISTMAS WEEK and I'm already late-ish but I aim to do all seven days gdi. Anyway since I'm trash and since I owed tumblr user natsumi82 birthday fic with crossdressing and throbb running into Jaime/Brienne also in crossdressing get-up and it worked fairly well as a sequel to that other fic AND one of the prompts was *stockings and ribbons* here you go. Sorry there's nothing Christmas-like about this but hey, I'm shameless like that. Enjoy! <3
> 
> Anyway, nothing belongs to me as usual and the title is STILL from *that* Aerosmith song because I'm old and I apparently can't come up with a better one to steal titles from when it comes to crossdressing. And now I'm gonna leave this here and saunter back downwards. See y'all when I actually come up with a decent series title and I can link it directly to the other fic.

“Listen, it’s not that I want to pry or anything and if you want me to fuck off feel free to say it, but you really look like you could do with a tip or fifteen. You mind if I sit a moment?”

Theon’s first reaction is almost screaming _what the fuck_ in the guy’s face.

He hadn’t even heard anyone coming, for that matter, but he had been so absorbed in his own thoughts he – well, he hasn’t been paying attention to his surroundings since Robb said he’d go to the bar to get their drinks.

Thing is, he doesn’t even know what he was thinking when he told Robb they might as well _go out_. He definitely has no idea of what he was even trying to prove – to himself? To his father, who will hopefully never find out that other than dating Robb he’s doing that while wearing a fucking dress in public? 

Who the fuck knows. Anyway, since Robb had seemed amenable the first time he had figured that maybe – maybe it could be nice. There’s a certain thrill in the prospect of wearing the shit he’s wearing where people can see and get away with it, and the fact that Robb really didn’t seem to have an issue with it certainly helped, but now that Robb’s in the queue for the counter – there aren’t waiters, it’s a very discreet place, which is why he picked it in the first place – he’s just all over his head.

Which is why he hasn’t heard anyone coming. Least of all a guy. What the fuck, he thinks as he turns to look at the newcomer, ready to tell him to leave already and that he doesn’t need any kind of advice –

And he says nothing because the guy is definitely not here because the cocktails are good, he’s here because it’s _that kind of bar_.

So, first thing: the guy’s _hot_. Not exactly his type, but he’s objectively a sight for sore eyes. Tall, with piercing green eyes, a face that looks sculpted in marble, golden blond hair and matching beard (very well kept – sure as hell this guy cares about maintaining his good looks), large shoulders and most probably a nicely toned body underneath.

_Most probably_ , Theon thinks, because the loose green dress he’s wearing doesn’t have a waistline – it’s very high, in the middle of his chest, so you can’t exactly get an accurate look at what’s underneath. It’s a lovely green dress, on top of that. It has long sleeves that are slightly larger around the wrist, discreet golden embroideries at the top of the sleeves and the bottom, a small bow just over the waistline, and the color compliments the guy’s eyes perfectly. Theon can see a pair of dark green boots peeking from underneath – they’re not _overtly_ feminine, if worn with trousers they could pass for unisex without much of a problem, but if matched with the dress… yeah, this guy’s here for the same reason he is. Theon also notices that differently from him, the guy’s not wearing makeup or doing anything to look more feminine _himself_ in the first place but – the fact is that he looks so comfortable in his get-up that it just really fits him. Never mind that he’s the kind of person who’d make trash bags look hot if they decided to wear them, which certainly helps. He’s also smirking as if he knows a lot of things Theon does not.

And – well. Maybe he can do with some advice.

“I guess I have nothing to do until my - my partner comes back with our drinks.”

“I could say the same,” the guy replies as he takes a seat. “Well, that’d be my girlfriend in my case, but it’s still valid.”

… He has a _girlfriend_? That’s – that doesn’t –

“If you’re worrying how me having a girlfriend factors in the reasons why I’m wearing a dress, let’s say she’s not that fond of the things herself. Anyway, she’s gonna show up soon I guess, so you’ll see what I mean.”

Theon gives him a dumbfounded nod – the guy smirks wider.

“Anyway, let’s be proper about this. I’m Jaime.”

“Uh, Theon. Nice – nice to meet you?”

“Likewise, and now that we’re introduced, let me tell you something. You really need to loosen up.”

_“Sorry_?”

“One could see you being tense as a live wire from the other side of the room. Given that you’re rocking that outfit, you might rethink it.”

“I’m doing _what_?”

“Come on, that looks good on you. Hell, I legitimately had to stare for a minute or two trying to figure out if I was going to make a fool of myself coming up here. I mean, you could have been a distressed girlfriend who was tense for other reasons.”

… Well, it’s definitely flattering, on some level. It means it’s – working, Theon figures.

“Anyway, you’re worrying way too much and you’re _not_ enjoying your nice evening, which is a very sad thing – this place is fairly nice and their cocktails are to die for. Let me guess, you’re thinking that you should feel ashamed about this entire thing?”

No point in lying, Theon figures. “Yes,” he admits.

“ _Do_ you?” Jaime replies, still halfway smirking.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I mean, it feels nice and I wasn’t sure when I tried it out the first time but I liked it, so I shouldn’t, but –”

“Does your... partner have a problem with it?”

Theon doesn’t even keep himself from laughing out loud. “Fuck, no. I think he’s more on board with it than I am.”

“Then if the problem is that you think you should – well, you know what, just look at the queue for the drinks.”

Theon does – it’s not long, but the bartender is doubling making the drinks and manning the register because it’s the middle of the week and there’s no other person doing the shift with him, so it’s not moving very fast.

“I am.”

“Right. My girlfriend. See the person who’s about taller than anyone else?”

Theon does – there’s someone who’s towering over everyone else. And – wait a moment. Yes. Definitely a woman. With pale blonde hair, more straw than gold though. She has larger shoulders than Jaime, she has long hair but it’s not styled, more tied back in a ponytail. He can’t really see her that well from here, but he’s half-sure that her nose was broken at some point and she’s really – _not_ as hot as her boyfriend here. All the contrary. But then he notices how she’s dressed.

She’s wearing a pair of boots without heels – he’s sure Jaime’s do have a bit of it from what he could see before –, a pair of jeans that shows off very muscular legs and a discreet beige leather jacket that without doubts was cut for a man. Then again, given how she’s built, he doubts you can find many feminine clothes in that size.

“I – I see her,” he says.

“Good. Now, you can imagine that dresses aren’t really her thing. I haven’t seen her in one out of her own volition since we met,” he says, sounding fond, damn it. “Does that look weird or inappropriate to you?”

“No – not really?”

“Well, yes. Because that shit actually looks better on her than dresses. And you should see her in a suit. Now _that_ would be grand, if I ever convince her to. Anyway, back to the point – she’s always hated wearing skirts and the likes. Don’t worry, she won’t mind me telling you, especially since she’s chatting to someone else and most likely commiserating about me. Does that look like something anyone should be ashamed of?”

“No,” he replies at once. It’s not like his sister wasn’t the same, even if she would look good in dresses if she cared to wear them. “But –”

“Wait. She’s also a black belt in some three different martial arts, can and has disarmed a guy barehanded since she’s a cop, and the first time I got her some flowers thinking she’d hate them she actually kept the damned things alive for one month.”

Theon stares at Jaime without even knowing what to say. The guy keeps on looking very amused by his plight.

“What I mean,” he when Theon doesn’t offer a reply, “is that gender roles are bullshit, there’s nothing bad in not giving a fuck about them and that even if wearing a dress turned you into a girl or something equally dumb – because I can assure you it doesn’t do _that_ with me – then there’d be zero shame in being one. Or behaving like one, whatever the fuck you want it to mean.”

“And how does that work for you?” Theon asks, figuring that he might as well get to the bottom of it.

Jaime’s eyes are _glinting_.

“Oh, great. Listen, let’s get down to it – I might be doing this also because I know that my father would get mad if he saw me in this get-up and the thought amuses me endlessly, but the thing is that dresses are fairly comfortable, I like wearing them and, excuse me, I feel pretty hot in them. Hey, nothing bad in feeling good about yourself. Or feeling comfortable with yourself. There’s literally all there is to it as far as I’m concerned. Okay, no, there’s the other part, but I guess that depends on how you like it when it comes to, y’know, what happens behind closed doors.”

“That... depends?”

“Well,” the guy replies with nonchalance Theon really envies him – how can he fucking be so open about this shit with a total stranger? –, “it didn’t take her long to figure out I like it best if she’s on top. You don’t know how much hotter it is if we do it like _this_.”

… okay, well, that does make sense. Logically. Shit, Theon thinks, how are you so _comfortable_ discussing openly this kind of stuff? Maybe it’s practice. Maybe.

“I – I see,” he says. “So – what you’re saying is –”

“If your entire deal when it comes to _this_ is that you enjoy wearing fucking dresses for the sake of it and you like to make things spicier in the bedroom like that, it’s a thing. Happens. Nothing wrong with that. Kinks are kinks. They don’t magically turn you into whatever you think it will, and as stated, gender roles are trash anyway.”

“Oh, fuck, I think your girlfriend is talking to my boyfriend,” Theon groans the moment he notices that Robb is queuing next to her.

“Hm,” Jaime replies after taking a good look at Robb, “not bad. Also, by the looks of it she’s probably dishing some advice as well.”

“ _What_?”

“They’ve glanced at us a few times. So they might be discussing us. Or me. Then again, I couldn’t blame her when I’ve just done the exact same thing.”

Theon isn’t sure if he wants to know what Jaime’s girlfriend and Robb are discussing.

“You make it sound easier than it is,” Theon groans, wishing he could take all of that speech at face value. Jaime looks again at the counter where Robb and Brienne have just paid and moved over – damn, they’re getting their drinks then.

He turns back towards Theon and then he winks again, standing up in that dress as if he entirely owns it. Damn him. Theon’s kind of envious.

“I think,” Jaime says, “that it’s the other way around. Ever thought that maybe you are making it more complicated than it is? Think about it. And see you around.”

He goes back to his booth, which is really not far from Theon’s at all, and he walks there with all the calm of someone who knows they’re comfortable in their outfit and want to show off without shame.

He notices the girlfriend rolling her eyes in a very fond way before taking her drinks and walking back where Jaime’s sitting. Robb gives her a small wave before taking their beers and bringing them over to their own booth.

“Here you go,” he says, sliding Theon’s beer towards him. “I imagine you had a fruitful conversation with _Brienne_ ’s boyfriend?”

“Depends on what you consider fruitful, but you’d know that, since you’ve seen us. And did she dish some advice to you as well?” He takes a drink just so he doesn’t have to talk – his fingers are slightly shaking.

“ _Depends_ as well.” Robb shrugs. “I mean, we started talking because she wanted to apologize in case her guy was bothering you, and I said I doubted it since if he was you’d have never let him sit there.”

“What –”

“You wouldn’t have. Anyway, we did talk some. Shared some life experience. And she told me she didn’t need to dish me any advice.”

“Wait, what? He sure dished _me_ some –”

“Probably, but do you want to know her exact words? Well, as far as I recall.”

“Shoot. I have a feeling it’s going to be embarrassing for me and not for you.”

“Well, she asked me how I took the news when it came to your clothing preferences, I told her that I thought it was the hottest thing in existence and I couldn’t give two fucks about anything else, and she _then you’re doing better than I had_.”

Theon would like to think Robb is being full of shit, but from what Jaime said it seems like she _might_ have needed to adjust to the idea while Robb definitely hadn’t, he just ran with it. Maybe he is doing better than she had.

Good fucking grief. He drinks some more beer, and secretly relishes how comfortable his flats feel – it’s a crying shame that he’s never found shoes for men that felt halfway as good on his feet. Shit. He needs to get a grip.

Or at least, that’s what he thinks before his eyes fall on those two sitting at the next booth over – fuck, Brienne’s looking at Jaime as if she’d like to ravish him on the spot and now that he can see her closer, he notices that she does have some really gorgeous blue eyes. They look admittedly out of place in the full picture, but on his side Jaime’s looking at her as if she’s the hottest thing on this Earth, so he most probably can’t give a fuck. He has a nagging suspicious he’d say they match the inside or _something_ of the kind – which is corny and horrible and one of the reasons he hates that his birthday is on the one day of the year when you hear that shit rhetoric everywhere.

But they also look so comfortable in their respective get-ups, he just – _how do they do it_?

_That could be me_ , he thinks, still glancing at Jaime. _That could be me, probably. Fuck, doesn’t look like a bad outcome. If only_ –

If only he’d get comfortable, if only he’d relax, if only he could stop feeling ashamed that he’s enjoying every second of this and the feeling of his thigh-high stockings, if only _a lot of fucking things_.

He finishes the beer. Robb is still halfway through his own.

“If it helps any,” Robb says after taking another sip, “I kind of have a message to you. From her.”

“Who, Brienne?”

“Yeah. She said I didn’t have to tell you, but if you kept on looking that tense without reasons maybe I should.”

“And what’s her advice? God, if _two people_ saw fit to –”

“Come on, they probably just don’t want obvious newcomers to fret more than necessary. Anyway, she said to tell you that it’s normal to think there’s something wrong with you but when you realize that gender roles are, in fact, bullshit, your life gets a lot better. Okay, she also said that she has it easier because no one bats an eyelid if she wears men’s clothes, but the point still stands.”

“Uh, did she say how gender roles are bullshit for her in that case?”

Robb finishes his beer and moves slightly closer. “She might have said that you don’t know how shitty it is to like things people consider _girly_ when you’re a woman who doesn’t look feminine and doesn’t dress feminine than anyone might imagine. I guess everyone has their cross to bear. Except for me.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because.” Robb’s voice drops slightly, low enough that no one else could hear them. “Because your cross to bear might be what kills me in a very good way.”

_“Sorry_?”

“Come on, if you looked hot in that black dress, this is better. Definitely suits you more. I can’t say I’m not feeling like I hit the jackpot.”

Thing is, he knows Robb’s not lying. He wouldn’t. And it was obvious he was into it when they tried it out the first time. And Theon certainly never shied away from compliments to his looks – hell, he’d probably be preening if he were wearing his regular get-up.

“So what,” he tries to joke, “next time I should try his style?”

He nods towards Jaime and his sort-of-imperial-style silk dress and –

He doesn’t know what he was expecting but Robb obviously pictures it and Theon can pinpoint the moment Robb’s eyes go slightly wider and his throat goes dry – he swallows down once, twice, before looking back at Theon with the eyes of someone who has really thought about it.

“I don’t know if that shade of green is your color, but if you do I won’t be the one stopping you.” He sounds almost hoarse and Theon hadn’t thought that would be the reaction, but – but damn it, it’s making him bothered in return.

“Maybe,” he says, “maybe I was thinking burgundy.” He doesn’t even know what he’s fishing at, but at that he thinks Robb bites back a groan. _Really_?

“Theon, go on like this and I swear that if you promise to actually wear it, I’m buying the first dress I see that vaguely matches the description and I’m giving it to you myself.”

Theon wants to ask, _seriously_ , but thing is –

There’s no need. Robb is obviously serious. He’s nowhere near the kind of good actor it’d take to fake something like this so convincingly.

Well, fuck this. He’s going to try this out for real, whether his brain thinks it’s a bad idea or not. He huffs, stands up and moves to the other side of the booth, sitting next to Robb and not in front of him, and then he takes a deep breath and slowly slides off one of his shoes.

It’s probably not fair that he doesn’t warn Robb before he brushes his foot against his bare ankle – he’s wearing sneakers, so he doesn’t have very high socks and it barely takes moving away his jeans a bit to manage it.

His foot, which is covered in silk.

“Shit,” Robb whispers, and his throat is so dry right now you can hear it.

“So I should keep the stockings, with the imperial dress?” Fuck, is he really saying it out loud?

“You damn well should,” Robb agrees at once.

“Well, no one said you can’t touch. Discreetly,” Theon adds.

“What?”

“Come on. Under the table. Just touch. No one’s going to call the cops on us. I’m fairly easy when it comes to you, if you hadn’t realized.” He used to be when it came to everyone years ago. And then he had the horrible idea of accepting a drink from Ramsay Bolton a couple of years ago, and he’s resolutely _not_ going to think about it, but since then he’s been less easy. Never mind that it’s not that he’s ever been with anyone else and he doesn’t want to be with anyone else.

“Well then,” Robb replies, “if I may.” And then his left hand moves on Theon’s knee and then backward, caressing his thigh so very slowly until it reaches the lace at the hems of the stockings. He does take his sweet time, his fingers brushing rather than groping, as if they’re marveling at how soft the silk feels, and Theon’s definitely getting bored here. Maybe half an hour ago thinking that he’s wearing fucking satin panties might have sent him spiraling into another round of self-doubt, but right now –

Right now –

Right now maybe, maybe he doesn’t give a fuck.

“Do you know why I picked this place?” Theon asks, hoping that his voice doesn’t betray how exactly he’s this close to moan.

“Not really. Enlighten me.”

“They – uh. Doesn’t look like it. But they have rooms upstairs.”

Robb’s smile is positively devious and Theon suddenly wants to be upstairs more than he wants anything else in this specific moment.

“Really. Do I talk to the bartender about it?”

“The website said that if you go upstairs there’s someone dealing with it –”

“Then,” Robb says, his hand leaving Theon’s thigh and grasping his fingers instead, “then I think we should be going upstairs already. _Sweetheart_.”

Fuck, the bastard really knows how to play his cards, doesn’t he?

Theon doesn’t think he’s ever stood up from anywhere this quickly in his life. Probably, neither has Robb.

\--

Theon doesn’t know whether he should feel horribly embarrassed because the person in charge of the rooms kept on looking at them as if they were the cutest thing she had ever seen in her life or something, but by the time she has given them a key to one of the five rooms on the upper floor he’s entirely too focused on the way Robb’s leading him over there with a hand around his waist to give a fuck.

He barely even glances at the room when Robb opens the door for him, which might have felt momentarily embarrassing, but he’s entirely too focused on other things to give that much thought. It’s medium-sized, has a large bed and it doesn’t smell like moths, and that’s about everything he needs to know. He turns around towards Robb the moment he hears him lock the door, and when their eyes meet Robb’s eyes are a painted picture of naked yearning, which is just - shit. _Shit_. If he hadn’t actually liked it, he’d be down with tearing the dress off him.

He almost expects Robb to for a moment, but instead Robb moves closer and takes his jacket off very gently. The dress had short sleeves, so his arms are showing and he doesn’t know if they’re ruining the picture or not, but Robb runs his hands over the exposed skin once, twice, and then looks down at Theon’s waist. He moves his hands on the small of his back, and ah, yeah, he’s touching the small ribbon at his waistline.

“Can I?”

“Do it already,” Theon says, and Robb smirks as he works it open. A moment later the dress feels a lot looser and he could probably step out of it, but for some reason he’d rather wait for Robb to do it, and so he stands still as Robb pushes it downwards delicately. It does pool at his feet, leaving him without any clothing on except his underwear and thighs. He steps out of his shoes and shivers for a moment when his feet touch the ground, and _shit he still has make-up on doesn’t he_ , and for a long moment he expects to freak out but then Robb kisses him before he can let himself.

And oh, Robb kisses him hot and urgent and without any finesse whatsoever, one of his hands clutching at his back and one at his hair but without being painful, and for a moment he feels almost like swooning right there and then, but he has a dignity and settles for hooking one of his legs around Robb’s thigh as Robb pushes him very gently against the wall. The contrast between how delicately he’s moving Theon around and how filthily he’s kissing him is gonna make his head spin sooner rather than later, but not just now, he decides.

“Shit,” Robb says when they part, breathing in heavily, “do you have a problem with it if I ask you to keep those stockings on?”

For a moment Theon’s completely taken aback by the question, but -

_But_ -

Why not? They’re comfortable. He likes how they feel - they’re soft and comfortable and the lacy hem is discreet but tasteful and he bought them on sight because he really liked the look of them.

He thinks about what Jaime said before and sees Robb’s anticipation at the bare prospect of it, and -

“No,” he says. “Leave them.”

Robb groans as he kisses Theon again, hands on his waist, and Theon lets Robb do it and move him towards the bed. They fall on it in a fairly undignified heap but by the time they have straightened out their positions, Robb has kicked off his shoes and is straddling Theon’s legs, his hands still running over the thigh garters, and Theon’s fairly sure he might have ruined another pair of panties. Or anyway if he’s as hard as he feels, he must have.

“Shit,” Robb says, his hand stroking Theon’s erection through the damp silk, “I wish I could take a picture.”

“What?”

“Theon, you have no bloody idea,” Robb says, tugging down his panties and throwing them on the side, “of how good you look,” he says against Theon’s lips before kissing him quickly and then moving his attention to giving Theon the slowest, most excruciating handjob anyone could come up with. He’s slow, impossibly so, taking his damned sweet time, and Theon can’t help growing harder by the second, and for a short while his vision actually gets blurry -

But when the world goes into focus again he’s still feeling taut as a string and so hard it aches, Robb is smiling in a way that should honestly be deemed fucking illegal and -

“Are you wondering why I’m taking my sweet time?” Robb asks.

“Kind of?” Theon has to admit. Robb is taking his sweet time after all. Moreso than usual.

“Whenever I’m with girls,” Robb says, “I like to spend a lot of time on preliminaries,” he says, and shit but the way he said it just went straight to the part of Theon’s body that makes blood boil when there’s a reason to.

“And then I quite like to do this with them,” he says. He spits in his free hand once, twice, thrice and -

Fuck’s sake. Damn it, someone jerking off with one hand and moving two fingers up your ass at the same time is not the kind of bedroom etiquette he’s used to, but fuck, it’s great. And - when Robb asked if he should treat him _like he’d treat a girl_ that last time he had accepted in spite of the embarrassment, but he’s not sure he’s feeling embarrassed now. He’s feeling -

“Then again,” Robb goes on, and Theon moans just at hearing how wrecked he sounds, “not many of the girls I’ve been with ever got that wet when I did it.”

Shit, it’s ridiculous that he’s about to come undone and not only they barely even started, but at least the previous time they actually fucked. This one he doesn’t think they’ll go as far, not now at least, but he’s beyond worrying about that.

“And were you that nice with all of them?” He manages to say instead of whimpering as he’s sorely tempted to as Robb’s fingers push in deeper.

“I try to,” Robb replies with admirable self-control for someone who is probably wishing they got rid of their jeans a long time ago, given that he’s visibly so hard it has to be painful. “See,” he goes on, taking his hand away from Theon’s dick and moving back slightly, and... what is that smirk? “You know what I answered people when they asked me why all of my exes apparently agreed I was a good lay?”

Which is admittedly something Theon himself has wondered a lot - Robb’s had a fair number of ex-girlfriends, most of which weren’t serious, who somehow are all in his circle of acquaintances, with whom he’s still friends or at least in good relations, and all of them agree that he was, in fact, a better lay than most guys they were with casually. He’s never asked because he was already rotten jealous of pretty much all of them (and he thought Robb was hopelessly straight at that point), but now -

“I don’t,” he blurts out. “ _Enlighten me_.”

“The secret is that you have to make sure they are having fun first,” Robb says, openly smirking and then -

Then he moves downwards and Theon’s brain pretty much blanks out because Robb, who’s a complete fucking bastard and should have warned him, takes him in his mouth and shoves his fingers in deeper at just the right angle at the exact same moment as if he timed it, and -

Another day, he’d have felt embarrassed of having come mere seconds after, but right now he’s not because he’s downright blanking - everything feels great and he doesn’t think he’s come this hard in his entire life and when he looks down at the scene and sees Robb breathing heavily as he moves up on the bed, his hand still touching the garter on his thigh almost reverently, he can’t help thinking that Robb looks as wrecked as he feels and -

Oh.

“Hell,” he blurts out, noticing the damp patch over Robb’s crotch, “now I feel bad about it.”

“Nonsense,” Robb says, and he sounds out of breath now. “It was - shit. You didn’t see how hot it was. I didn’t even need a hand.”

_Fuck_. Theon’s breath comes short at that, too, and then Robb wipes his hands on the sheet. When they’re suitably clean, he moves one behind Theon’s head, and he’s both firm and delicate at the same time and Theon doesn’t know how the fuck he does it but it almost feels more intimate than everything else they’ve just done. His other hand moves back to Theon’s thigh, right where the silk of the stocking turns into the garter.

“Now,” he says, “you know what it is that I liked best about having sex with girls?”

“What?”

“That they would be ready to go at it again in a minute. More than once.”

_Oh_.

The way Robb’s looking at him is positively filthy and that’s when Theon realizes that even if he feels completely spent right now, he - he definitely could give it another try. Or three. Or ten, if Robb keeps on staring at him like this.

“And,” Robb goes on, “it really wasn’t a chore for me to catch up. So, you think we could see how many times we can try it out, _sweetheart_?”

He’s never, ever going to admit out loud that whenever Robb calls him like that he feels like his knees might give out. Still -

“I’m game if you are,” Theon manages to say without sounding as if he’s about to swoon. Which he might. _Given how Robb is still looking at him_.

“Well then,” Robb says, leaning back so he can take his clothes off, “I’m entirely down with it. And by the way, this is still the fucking best idea you ever had in your life.”

Robb’s told him more than once. He’s not sure he quite believes it.

But right now, he thinks he might very, very soon.

\--

( _“Hey, you think the two of them got their shit together?” Jaime asks Brienne as he glances at the empty booth where Theon and what was the boyfriend’s name, right, Robb, had been sitting before._

_Brienne snorts and glances at the ceiling. “They’ve been gone for half an hour. I daresay they might have.”_

_Jaime smirks in the way people do after they come to the conclusion they’ve done their job well. “Don’t I deserve some reward for helping out people in need?”_

_“If that was your very roundabout way of asking me if this is the time I bring out the real handcuffs when we get home, I just might. But just so that you’ll realize they’re fucking uncomfortable and stop asking me.”_

_Jaime smirks even wider. That was exactly what he had been hoping for._

_Well, if that’s what it takes Brienne to agree to some of his proposals that she thinks are completely whacked, if he sees them around again he’s going to dish out advice to the both of them at once and maybe she won’t brush him off when he asks if she can wear her uniform, next time._ )

 

End.


End file.
